St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-01-02


A romance? Not a bit of it. 1t is an
ordinary, everyday occurrence. The man
grew strong again. and in short time well.
Like the thousands of accidents of a great
city, the incident became a thing of the
past and in a week was forgotten. What
matters it who he was? Suffice it to know
he was a toiler of the world, yet perhaps a
nobleman. What matters it if-well was
it not his duty to lay down his life for an
other? At least. so argued the world.
And as the weeks grew apace, and the
prison chamber of the hospital was once
more deserted for the liberty of the beauti-
full free world, the tOiler went forth and
pursued the tenor of his way.
At best this stranger was but dreamer
"a slave of the quill and ink-a player-or
playwright; it matters not in point In
the technical sarcasm of the world, they
sometimes called him q poet-artist. 'Ah,
well-a-dayl Happy the woes of poor,
struggling author" the world said, as it
patted him ON the back. And Edwin Hol-
ton smiled. and rather seemed to like the
brunt of battle. Poor wretch! How could
he-how dared he-think of what he had
done? And if in the silence of his heart
some longing did fit through his idle
dreams, by whatl reason or right should
that.dream be of her? Was she not gem
of that almighty ordinance which decreeth
admiration of-only the world of distinction,
fame and wealth? For Pearl Lear was an
heiress, and beloved by the rich and hand
some heir of the Lee estate. Why should
she give him another thought?
Edwin Houlton sat at the piano in the
humble parlor of Mrs. Edgar Kemble,
toying with the ivory keys as his rich voice
echoed with the strains OF the song ''Only
Smile" His soul seemed to be in the
words, for he repeated them over and over
again:
Only smile ask of thee. my darling,
Guiding ME onward through the weary day;
Only a word of kindness, little darling.
Making LIES path happy, fiow'ry way.
1t was strange coincidence that at the
time of which [ write Edwin Holton lived
in the heart Of the city, within a stones
! throw of the scene of the accident which
first brought him to the notice of my
| heroine. And stranger still, in the manor
across the way dwelt the Lears. Dear,
good Mrs, Kemble, who watched over
Edwin Holton as if he were a child of
her own, often smiled in her happy way as
| she told the guests who SojOurned at her
house of her pet boy"
My boy is genius" she would exult-
| ingly say, as in silent pride she brought
forth the latest monthly and pointed to
some essay or poem which emanated from
his pen. HE will reach the top of the lad
der of fame and become rich and great some
day."
And thus encouraged. Edwin Holton
i toiled on.
A great test-work was soon to be laid be-
| fore the lyceum dramatic school. American
authors We're striving with might and main
for the honor and the glory of its first sue
cess. Noted playwrights of every degree
and station sent sent in their MSS, and the
day for public rehearsal was at hand,
Edwin Holton faithfully worked in silence
but with such sileneel-indefatigab and
deep.
a note came to him one day. With trem.
bling hands he broke the seal. scarce noting
the inscription, with its significant crest Of
blue. A pallor swept over his face as ht
read these words:
We have accepted your play and will give
it production on the 18th. Please forward
us the copied parts as early as possible. In
closed find check for 81. 200, whichto secures